Jackson's Anchor
by christopercy
Summary: Stiles becomes Jackson anchor. Jackson starts to feel something for Stiles and stiles starts to feel something for Jackson. Will anyone ruin the start of this new found love. And what has Matt planned for them! (M rated so watch out for future chapters)


**MADE THIS JUST FOR FUNS REVIEW PLZ **

CHAPTER 1

He thought the day had started fine, except for a strange encounter with Matt in the locker room and he thought he had been making out with matt. Matt was not cute enough for him, though. He was strange, he did not look right, and that made Jackson feel awkward and uncomfortable. Strangely, he always wanted to submit to him as well - Jackson had only ever wanted to submit to Lydia before, so this was increasingly odd. He shrugged off the weird feeling as he focused on the game at hand trying to get the ball so he could make the final - and winning - score.

It was an accident, really. Jackson had looked at Stiles after the championship lacrosse game only to watch him be taken by Gerard. He had tried to change – even into that horrible monster everyone said he was, to help Stiles, to find him - a repayment for all of the messed up help he had been given - but it had not worked here he was stuck as a useless human. That night, in a pit of his despair he was able to call forth the icy claws. He had failed at being a human, being a werewolf, being whatever this monster was, until now. He hated himself for this reason, among so many others, everything was just pure hatred. He took the claws and brought them down into his arm, digging deep. He could feel his blood absorbing the venom and ignoring it, his immunity to his own venom was becoming stronger the longer he was stuck as this creature. He clenched his teeth and avoided crying out, squeezing his eyes shut as a few unbidden tears fell slowly down his face. He ripped out his claws and he repeated the stabbing, choosing a new location each time. Into his stomach, into his calf muscles and into his neck. Finally he stopped, his clothes torn and bloodied, the strange venom coating so much of his sheets, his bed also covered in blood and he was breathing heavily from exhaustion and desperate weakness. His eyes flashed a hollow blue before he faded to sleep, the last thought he had was Stiles' face as he was being dragged away by Gerard. The look of fear and defiance burned into the depths of Jackson's mind like a brand.

That night he dreamt. Of being the monster, the scaly demon, the thing he still could not remember the name for. He was not alone though, with him was Stilinski, but it was strange.

"What do you want, loser?" His voice was harsh and cruel. He was surprised he could speak. Stiles looked over at him. A pale light shining from his face and stupid haircut.

"I just want to help. I want people to stop dying. I want you to have control." Dream-Stiles stepped closer to him, standing only a few inches away, Jackson's breath caught in his throat.

"Why do you care if I'm in control? You're just like Derek, you want me dead!" His tongue flicked out and he felt extreme rage mixed with fear. Stiles gave his best ass-wide smile. He leaned in the movement seemed to go on forever, before he was slowly saying;

"This is why," pressing his lips against Jackson's. Jackson felt the monster fade away as he began to kiss Stiles back, letting his tongue slowly roll across the other teenager's lips. When the kiss broke, he was breathing heavily, perfectly human again.

"You... you're…how?" Jackson stumbled over his words and felt himself go pink from the intensity of it all. The emotions, the questions, it was a lot for him to deal with all at once.

"A kanima is still a shape-shifter like a werewolf you just needed an anchor is all." Stiles gave Jackson a knowing grin before the dream faded out to empty blackness.

Shortly thereafter Jackson awoke with a start. In his bed he went rigid, his mind reeling with what he had seen during the night. Kanima he thought to himself as he began to move slowly. That's what I am. 'A kanima and Stilinski is my anchor' he thought. He looked at himself in the mirror and scowled, he was still covered in blood and a mess of other fluids. At least he had several hours until school began, it was only 3.00AM.

At school that morning he kept an eye out for Stiles and saw him walking through the halls, a black eye colorful and dark against his pale skin. He pushed his way through the slight crowd up to the bruised boy, shouldering a few people out of his way before he roughly shoved Stiles against a random locker. Stiles noticed him at the last minute and had failed to escape, Jackson gave a small grunt of triumph before looking more closely at Stiles' eye.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing, Jackson!" Stiles' voice cracked, his eyes flickered with fear even though his face showed defiance.

"Where did you get the black eye?" His voice was harsh. "Was it Gerard?" He sounded petulant, misdirected, but he did not care.

"Why should you care?" Stiles' voice was strained, fear causing it to peak. A look like the one Gerard had caused flitted across his features before the teenager began to struggle. Jackson held him firmly, his face moving even closer to the others.

"Just tell me… Was it Gerard?" Jackson steeled his face, but unbidden worry crept into his voice. Shocked, Stiles nodded his head slowly, his eyes dropped and a red stain crept up his neck to engulf his face. Was he embarrassed to admit an old man beat him up? Furthering his visual inspection of Stiles, he noticed the cut, a slightly swollen lip, and the way his face and hands looked raw.

"Why do you care?" Stiles' confusion began to show, his eyes narrowed as he looked Jackson right in the eye. Jackson released him and glared at the nearby students. "Besides… It's not your fault I got beat up by an old man." Stiles looked away and shuffled on his feet before making a move to leave.

"I don't. Care, that is. I saw last night. Wanted to repay the favor but couldn't." He looked away and grunted. Stiles laughed.

"You mean you can't control your… change?" His voice held a taunt, a joke, but the smile left his face as he noticed the pained scowl Jackson flashed him. He nodded to the ADHD teenager before pulling away.

"Just don't get hurt again, Stilinski!" He said roughly as he went to turn away. Stiles stepped close to his ear and in a stage whisper muttered something Jackson grunted a quick "What?" and Stiles repeated himself.

"Restraining order". He said in a singsong voice before jumping away to presumably go find Scott. Jackson shook his head as Danny walked up to him. He looked confused but did not ask anything. Jackson gave him a grateful look and went to his locker, throwing it open and digging around for a few books.

"Chemistry is going to suck." He said simply, shouldering his bag and walking away. Danny caught up and placed a hand on Jackson's shoulder, slowing him down and holding him back.

"Look, I know you won't tell me what's going on with everything with Lydia and McCall and that. But what was the thing with Stiles?" His voice was calm and concerned, his brows were furrowed and his usual smile was missing.

"I don't know." Jackson said truthfully. "I'm trying to figure shit out and he's the only one who can really help somehow." He had been worrying about Stiles, and after that dream, and several others, he was a bit more than confused. He knew he was into some guys, but they were always like Derek. Older super model-like, mysterious and the forceful type like. Not dorky, spazzes like Stiles Stilinski. But now something about that dream made Jackson feel a liking to stiles. "I'm serious, Danny. I'm not sure." He shook his head and blinked a few times.

Danny released his shoulder, "I believe you." He said quietly, looking saddened. Jackson gave him a smile and a quick hug. Something he had not done in a few years. Danny brightened considerably, though Jackson could see the worry written all over his face. "C'mon. Before we're late and Harris has a conniption!" Danny made a quick joke before dragging Jackson down the hall towards the science wing.

In chemistry, Jackson carefully watched Stiles the entire time, Danny kept giving him weird looks and Jackson gave in. He grabbed Danny's notebook and scrawled I'll explain if you come over later. Danny nodded and class passed uneventfully. Stiles even managed to not set Harris off on a violent tangent. Jackson did not want the day to start well again before taking another violent turn.

At lunch, Allison and Lydia were sitting together off to one side and Jackson joined the table at the same time Scott and Stiles showed up. Danny followed shortly after and took the empty seat next to Stiles, who once again was badgering him about how attractive he was. Jackson laughed as Danny joked about the black eye and swollen lip, but Stiles continued to ask. By the fourth or fifth time he asked, Jackson muttered "Yes" under his breath without really noticing. Danny gave him a quizzical look, but no one else seemed to have noticed. He tried to listen to the conversation at hand, but it did not make that much sense to him. Abruptly Danny stood and Jackson looked up at him curiously, a confused look passing over his freckled features.

"Look, I know you all have some secret and I've been trying to let you have it. But if you want to talk about it at lunch, the least you could do is ask me to leave." Jackson looked away before staring back up at him, his mouth agape. He looked back at the others and raised his eyebrows. Danny stood there, crossing his arms defensively, looking at him expectantly, Scott shook his head no and Jackson snapped a little.

"It's bad enough Lydia's been dragged into this, but now I can't even tell my best friend what's wrong with me because of your stupid little friend Derek? Fuck off, McCall it's my secret and I'll tell who I want." He stood up and grabbed the apple from his tray before steering Danny away. He looked back briefly to see Stiles flailing before he, too, stood up and said something in a hushed whisper to the table. Jackson smirked a little, and looked at Danny.

"What's going on, Jacks?" Danny asked softly, looking concerned. It did not really fit his strong, square features. Jackson shook his head as they stopped outside the cafeteria, leaning back against one of the yellowing school walls, avoiding the range of the new security cameras.

"A lot, It's difficult to explain." He looked over to see Danny watching him intently.

"Well, try." His voice was strong, but careful and cautious. Almost as if he did not want to know. Just then the cafeteria door flew open with a bang and Stiles skidded to a stop next to the two of them.

"Uh hey Jackson, Danny." He gave them a weird grin. "How's it going'?" His voice was queer; strained and Jackson could really see the confusion on Danny's face now. Jackson gave Stiles a look that said what the fuck but he ignored it. "What has Jackson said yet?" Jackson froze, his eyes flicked between the two other teenagers, one tan, the other pale.

"Nothing, but if I may..." Danny grabbed each of them by the arm and dragged them towards the locker room, kicking the door in and forcing them to go back to the shower cubicle. "So why the hell hasn't one of you told me werewolves exist yet?" Danny's eyes looked frantic and Jackson paled, he had no response for Danny, had no idea how Danny would have found out. He had known. Stiles was the first to respond. Danny's eyes were wide, scared, like he was grabbing for an answer on his own but was unable to guess what the problem truly was.

"It wasn't your problem didn't affect you. Sort of a need-to-know basis here…" Stiles' voice was rough and lacked his normal joking attitude, Jackson was thrown into motion.

"Derek said I couldn't tell you, or anyone, really. And it doesn't really matter we're not all werewolves, anyways." He looked away from Danny feeling the shame burn up his neck, his cheeks going hot. He blinked a few times before looking over at Stiles, he looked aghast and crushed all at once.

"Not all werewolves? And who is Derek?" Danny sounded confused, like he had gone from wielding power to being a misled dog.

"Miguel." Stiles said quickly, looking away from Danny with a small smirk. Understanding brightened Danny's eyes and he let out a small laugh.

"So you don't have a cousin named Miguel?" He looked amused, his emotions rolling so quickly right now. Jackson felt some of the tension leave his shoulders as he sighed in relief, maybe this would not be such a disaster after all.

"Okay, so what about werewolves then?" Danny looked over at Jackson he felt his face twist a little. He nodded slowly.

"They're real." His eyebrows furrowed a bit in anger and discomfort. "But not all of us are wolves." He sounded bitter.

"What do you mean?" Danny asked the same time Stiles said, "You don't have to tell him, Jackson."

"Shut it, Stilinski. Get the fuck out of here, you're not even our friend." Jackson's voice was harsh, he saw the look of hurt, quickly masked by irritation, flick across Stiles' face. Danny looked a little taken aback and Jackson saw him give Stiles an apologetic shrug. He left the locker room stiffly and Jackson winced as the door was forcefully slammed shut.

"Dude, you really need to cut Stilinski a break." Danny's voice snapped him out of his momentary wallowing. "He was just trying to help you." Jackson sighed and bowed his head in frustration.

"Okay?! I know! But just, no one! …has ever wanted to before..." Jackson turned away from Danny and rested his head against the tiled wall of the shower. It felt grimy but he did not care, he sighed into the wall before banging his head upon it once in frustration.

"So you going to tell me what's going on around here?" Danny's voice was light, but Jackson could not take any more jokes. He looked at Danny and slowly said,

"I'm the one killing people." Danny turned pale as the weight of what Jackson just said sunk in. "Or the thing… I'm not a werewolf. Something went wrong. I've been uncontrollably killing people." He winced at how lame things sounded and he tried to turn away from Danny, but the other boy gripped his arm.

"What are you then?" He looked scared and concerned, but he was not running away yet.

"I'm a kanima." His voice shook, "It's something that exists because someone feels unloved and cold-hearted. You become what you are on the inside." He wrenched his arm from Danny's hand and began to walk away, but instead the other boy came up behind him and swung him around so his back was flat against the wall, shoulders pinned done beneath the Hawaiian's broad hands.

"You said it was uncontrollable? Why?" Danny had a determined look in his eyes, Jackson realized that he was not going to back down. At least not anytime soon.

"Someone or something is controlling me. It makes me change and do... Terrible things. That night you got paralyzed at the club... Was my fault. Kind of. I did that." He closed his eyes and let his legs drop out from underneath himself. He landed with a harsh thud on the locker room floor, legs splayed and face clenched in his hands.

"Dude..." Danny's voice was quiet as he moved to sit down, facing Jackson, crossing his legs in the space between his friend's own. He opened his eyes to find Danny looking at him intently. "Do you know who is doing this to you?" Jackson shook his head, taking in a big gulp of air. He smiled a little as his ears went pink, he was relieved that Danny had yet to run off in anger or betrayal… or even fear.

"No idea. Stiles thinks it's Matt, but Allison and McCall think it's Gerard." He flushed as he realized he had said Stiles and not Stilinski, what if that dream, and the others like it, meant something? He shook his head a little, shaking away any entertainments to the thought of liking Stiles.

"Okay, dude, you've been acting weird about Stilinski all day. More than lately. What is going on there?" Danny was smiling like it was an awesome joke, waiting to be told. Jackson let out a big huff of air. He did not know what to say in response, but memories came back to him: he had an idea of where to start at least.

"Do you remember your twelfth birthday party?" Jackson asked quietly, ears and throat staying pink. Danny nodded slowly before shaking his head with a confused look on his face.

"What about it?" Maybe he does not remember, Jackson mused silently.

"After we kissed, you said thank you and that I was the best because I don't even love boys." Danny nodded along to what Jackson was saying, he remembered the day it seemed. At least Jackson sincerely hoped and wanted so. "Well, what if I told you that kiss meant a lot to me. And it helped me feel normal. Because I like girls and guys?" Jackson's voice shook as he spoke, his face was pale and his eyes were tightly closed. Danny opened and closed his mouth a few times before responding with a wordless hug, gripping Jackson tightly.

"What does this have to do with Stilinski?" He asked dumbly, trying to put the pieces together. Jackson opened his eyes and whispered a response that Danny did not hear. "What, Jackson?"

"Because right now I think I like Stiles." As he admitted it, a single tear fell from his eye, running down his face to catch in the corner of his mouth. He shook his head hard and gripped Danny close. Soon, the first tear was joined by many as he silently sobbed into Danny's shoulder. "I'm such an idiot." He whispered, gripping Danny tight enough that he heard the other teenager wince and gasp. He let go. Danny just looked at him, confusion written across his face, but his eyes still showed that he cared about Jackson. And that was all Jackson wanted.

"So, what now?" Danny asked quietly as he stood up, holding out a hand for Jackson. He gripped it tightly, accepting Danny's help as he stood and dusted himself off.

"Well, don't tell anyone I'm bisexual." Jackson said roughly, his face turning into a cold, dark mask. "Really don't want to deal with that." He shook his head and began walking towards the locker room exit, Danny following closely behind.

"And what about the rest?" He rested a hand on Jackson's shoulder, causing him to pause and look back at the Hawaiian teenager.

"I need you to stay out of it. I don't want you getting hurt." Jackson's voice softened, then he wiped his sleeve across his face, erasing the remnants of his break down before opening the door and leaving the locker room just as the bell rang signaling the end of the period. Kids poured from the cafeteria and amongst the mess Jackson found Stiles' face and watched him walk into his chemistry lab, followed by Lydia and a few of the wolves. He smiled a little at how normal everything seemed: unknowingly, ignoring the way Matt was watching him and continuing on to his final class of the day, before free period.

Lacrosse started up with an angry speech from coach, despite their win the previous night. He was going to make them all finally work for their win and pay for their mistakes. Then, they could have the rest of practice to scrimmage and relax a little bit before summer training began in early August. Everyone groaned at the thought of death sprints in gear.

Jackson took up a spot between Danny and Stiles, with Scott on Stiles' other side. Danny gave Jackson a knowing glance before the whistle blew and they worked through sprints. Greenberg called for a break which Finstock graciously allowed, Stiles was doubled over and Danny was breathing hard, along with everyone else. Scott, Isaac, and Jackson did not look terribly fazed, but feigned discomfort and heavy breathing. Jackson looked around as they dispersed, eyes searching out Stiles, more than once they moved over Matt who was watching him with an intensity that was frightening.

Jackson's eyes found Stiles easily throughout the sprints and water breaks, each time he would look over just in time to see the hyperactive teenager dart his eyes away to stare at Danny, Isaac, or Greenberg. Jackson was not sure why, but even when Stiles' eyes were not trained on him, he still felt someone watching him closely. After almost an hour of sprinting and running, Finstock blew his whistle and yelled out.

"All right, girls. You can have your game now!" Coach's voice boomed across the team and a few cheers rose out. This was their last practice of the year, and they were going to have some fun finally. Jackson smiled in relief and pulled Scott to one side, as co-captains of the team they would be captains of the groups sparring off.

"Danny my team." Jackson started off the pickings, choosing the best goalie on the team. Scott looked over the group assembled before choosing.

"Isaac over here man!" Jackson saw him give Stiles an apologetic look with a small shrug of his shoulders. He returned his attention to the rest of the team before making a decision.

"Stilinski. You did good last night, do it again or you're dead." He watched as shock registered on the faces of the rest of the team, but a few people laughed. Stiles stood by Danny and Jackson could hear him whispering angrily with the other teen, confused about the choice. He watched as Scott took Matt, he called Greenberg, and the choosing continued in the same manner. Then the scrimmage started, dropping into an easy flow rather quickly. People were not trying to take each other out, instead leisurely throwing the ball and dodging feigned tackles.

Nearing the end of practice, Jackson got a pass from Stiles that was actually passable, with strength behind it and definite direction. He nodded a quick thanks before turning to shoot on McCall and directly running into Matt. He fell back and when his head smacked into the ground Matt stooped to help him up.

"Whatever you've got planned with Stilinski is done now." He hissed angrily, pulling Jackson up forcefully. He shook his head and wondered what Matt was going on about. Then Finstock blew the whistle into his ear.

"What was that Whittemore?! Need something to clear your head?! Everyone hit the showers! Except Stilinski and Whittemore. Clean this place up!" Coach never made Jackson do anything and he was vaguely stunned. First the cryptic comment from Matt and now punishment from Finstock. What was going on? Stiles groaned and moved to start collecting discarded balls and cones. Jackson just stood there confused. Jackson began to watch Stiles unbidden, noting how he had ditched his padding and was moving around in basic workout clothes. Each time he bent, his shirt rode up his back leaving a patch of exposed skin and revealing sweat stained boxers. Jackson could not stop staring.

When Jackson finally moved to help Stiles, he was greeted by a bucketful of lacrosse balls and the sight of seeing the other wearing all the cones on his head at once.

"C'mon ya lazy ass, let's get these put away so we're not the last ones in the locker room." Stiles gave him a look of contempt before shouldering past despite all of the room he had to go around. Jackson slowly followed the human into the building, watching as he dropped off the cones before stopping at his cubby next to Danny's. Jackson put away the bucket and came out in time to see Stiles drop out of his boxers and walk to the showers. His eyes followed the white ass that seemed to be glaring at him. Jackson threw off his pads and angrily undressed, slowly walking to the shower and avoiding Stiles. How was the locker room already so empty? He wondered quietly.

He cleaned himself off quickly before running the towel over his body as fast as he could manage. Escaping the building, he nearly ran to his Porsche, having not seen it. He sped home where he immediately went to collapse on his bed. Reaching under the pillow his hands landed on the tape that showed what he really was. He cringed at the thought of it. Instead he went to focus on the image of Stiles in the shower. Despite not wanting to, he had secretly watched the other teenager, and now he could relive the moment on his own. Before he could really do anything though, his eyes closed and he drifted to sleep.

As much as Jackson wanted to believe that he was asleep there was no possible way he could be. This felt so much more real than his other dreams – but he had nothing to compare this experience to. He was moving quickly down the street after having leapt from his bedroom window. His claws skittered on the damp pavement in the night air, small sparks dancing off the ground around his hands and feet.

After a few minutes he recognized where he was headed: towards the Stilinski residence, he tried to stop himself but he could not even slow his own pace. A hiss escaped his lips as a voice resonated through his mind. "I told you to stop whatever was going on with Stilinski." The message was clear and Jackson could not believe it. Stiles had been right, Matt was the one controlling him. An enraged hiss that bordered on a whine melted through his lips and around his tongue. He was quickly directed to Stiles' window, watching the other teenager as he messed around on his computer. And he stopped. He could feel that same outer force urging him on, but he could not move: he had some control. Sitting here, remembering the night before and how desperate he had been.

Jackson awoke in his bed, spluttering sweat out of his open mouth. He was naked though he had not undressed himself, the ends of his fingertips were red and raw and he could barely remember what he had dreamt – if it had even been a dream at all. All he knew was that he needed to find out if Stiles was okay or not: he was one of the last people that Jackson wanted to find out he had attacked… again, he reminded himself

**SO WHAT DO YOU THINK GUYS? THIS IS MY SECOND STORY SO PLZ REVIEW GOOD OR BAD!**


End file.
